


Sick Days

by Coalmine301



Series: Whumptober 2020 [8]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Everybody Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I tried to keep this fluffy but forgot and added in some pain, Parent Qui-Gon Jinn, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Protective Bail Organa, Protective Padmé Amidala, Protective Qui-Gon Jinn, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, as per usual, what did you expect from me?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: Obi-wan Kenobi isn't indestrucable, far from it. Luckily he dosen't have to be. Not with people lookign out for him.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Whumptober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908538
Comments: 3
Kudos: 168
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Sick Days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whumpotber prompt "Support"

“It’s ok, Padawan,” Qui-gon’s deep voice rumbled encouragingly. “Don’t try to fight it.”

Obi-wan was about to say something in response only to be cut off by another coughing fit. His throat felt dry and scratchy from just how much coughing he’d been doing over the past few hours. 

Qui-gon disappeared into the kitchen only to quickly return with a cup of tea in his hands. Obi-wan gave it a quick sniff, pleased to discover it was lemon with a bit of honey stirred in. 

“Drink this, it’ll help your throat.”

Obediently Obi-wan lifted it to his lips, tilting the cup back to drink it all.

As he did he missed Qui-gon’s worried gaze on his throat. ‘My poor padawan…’

Suddenly the largest man sat down beside him. Obi-wan couldn’t help but let out a little eep as a muscular arm pulled him into the much larger man’s side.

For a moment the two of them simply sat there in silence. Well, relative silence as every few moments Obi-wan broke into painful, chest rattling coughs that made Qui-gon’s own lungs hurt. His heart clenched painfully in sympathy with each one. And all he could do was sit there and hold his very young padawan.

Eventually the coughs grew quieter and quieter. Qui-gon risked a glance beside him and was met with the image of Obi-wan relaxed against his side, fast asleep. Occasionally a cough would still tear forth but at least now Obi-wan looked more at peace than he had these past few days. 

Carefully the larger man scooped the redhead into his arms and strutted off to the smaller bedroom. With utmost care Qui-gon tucked Obi-wan in bed, making sure to prop him up on the pillows. 

Then the giant of a man bent down and pressed a tender kiss to the sweat-soaked forehead. “Sweet dreams, Padawan.”

* * *

“It’s ok, Master,” Anakin soothed. “I’m here.”

Obi-wan didn’t have time to even think of a response before he was suddenly heaving over the toilet bowl again. As he did, Anakin held back the ginger hairs of his mullet like those holodrama actresses going through morning sickness… Obi-wan really hoped this wasn’t morning sickness.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he had come down with, only that it made him feel absolutely awful. Whole body chills, drastically lower energy, a pounding headache, and muscle aches all over. Fun times!

Sometime during his heaving a hand had moved from his hair to rest on his sweaty back. It was now rubbing soothing circles as he shook from the exertion of keeping himself upright. “If I heat up some soup do you think that would help?” Anakin asked gently.

Obi-wan’s stomach clenched in revulsion at the mere mention of food. He’d never really had the biggest appetite but now even that had gone completely out the window. Just the thought of eating made him feel nauseous. 

He must have made a face because Anakin’s lips straightened into a thin line. “You need to get some fluids back in you,” he mused out loud. “Would tea be ok?”

Before now Obi-wan never really thought Anakin was the healer type, but right now he seemed to be an expert at it. Distantly the knight wondered if the former slave ever looked after his mother when she was sick.

“Sapir?” Obi-wan asked hopefully. Though of course it probably sounded more like “Sma’er?” with both how terrible he felt and the state of his acid burned throat.

Nevertheless his apprentice understood perfectly fine as he let out an amused huff. “Yeah, I’ll check and see if we still have any of it left. Though I honestly have no idea how you can possibly tolerate that bitter stuff.” And despite everything Obi-wan felt himself grin in slight amusement. 

Of course that amusement instantly disappeared as he felt something rising up his throat again. It took a couple gags before something finally decided to actually come out and by that time Obi-wan was shaking faintly in exertion. 

“How we feeling, buddy?” Anakin asked, once again rubbing circles in his mentor’s damp back. It actually felt pretty good and the redhead found himself slightly leaning into the touch.

Obi-wan only could muster up a noise halfway between a groan and whimper in response. Normally he might have been embarrassed about it. But right now he found he simply didn’t have the strength to care.

“I know it sucks, Master,” Anakin replied encouragingly. “But we’ll get through this. Just trust me, alright?”

‘With my life,’ Obi-wan thought though was far too tired to voice it aloud. The inviting drag of sleep was too strong and before long he found himself surrendering to its welcome embrace. 

* * *

“It’s ok, Obi-wan,” Padme muttered as she ran slender fingers through the redhead’s hair. “It’s going to be ok.” She just hoped he couldn’t read the lie in her voice. 

Unable to respond, the Jedi simply lay with his head in her lap and struggled to breathe. At first he had weakly resisted as she shifted him into their current position. But the Jedi had since accepted it as elevating his head helped him breathe a little. Not a lot, certainly not enough, but slightly better than nothing. 

When she looked down Padme could see black veins standing out sharply against the pale skin of her friend’s throat. The poison creeping higher and higher... With every passing minute he seemed to grow weaker and weaker, his breaths little more than shuttering gasps now. 

She hated how powerless she was as her friend suffered. Anakin was off helping to look for a cure and Padme longed to be able to join him. 

Unfortunately the medical experts feared she may have been dosed as well and were wary about letting her or any of the other senators out of their sight. After all, it had taken a while for Obi-wan’s own symptoms to fully manifest. So all she could do was sit here and comfort her friend as he breathed what could very easily be his last.

She hoped they found a cure soon. She wasn’t sure how much longer Obi-wan could last.

* * *

“It’s ok, Obi-wan,” Bail murmured encouragingly. “We’ll make it through this.”

A surprisingly powerful forearm slipped under his shoulders and lifted him into a half-sitting position. Bail pressed a flask to his lips and the battered Jedi drank without protest. Clear, blissful water slid down his abused throat. 

All too soon it was pulled away. “Better?” Bail asked, hazel eyes scanning over his beaten form with clear worry. And hadn’t he been quite the sight for sore eyes? The Sith had utterly ravaged his mind so it would be only fair to do the same to his body.

“Much,” the Jedi croaked out despite his recent drink. 

The senator frowned before suddenly pressing the back of his hand against Obi-wan’s forehead. “You’re burning up,” he stated. “One of your wounds must have gotten infected.”

‘Or all of them,’ Obi-wan mused numbly. “Bail..”

“Hmm?”

He had to say it. He needed to know there would be at least one person looking after Anakin in his sudden absence. “If I don’t make it-”

“Don’t you dare, Master Jedi,” the older man cut him off. “I didn’t haul your ass halfway across this godsdammed planet only for you to give up now.” It was obviously a joke though it fell flat halfway through.

“I’m not,” the Jedi replied. “But the Sith, the voices, I- I’m not sure how long I can continue to fight it off… I really shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess.”

“It was mostly me who did the dragging, Kenobi.”

Obi-wan could only give a bitter, humourless chuckle at that. “We don’t know... if anyone even knows... where we are. We could be trapped here… without rescue…” it was getting harder to talk.

To his surprise Bail only grinned. “Is that so? Well then, I know something you don’t, Obi-wan.” At the odd statement and use of his first name the redhead raised an eyebrow in question. Just what did the senator have hidden up his sleeve?

Almost immediately after giving that statement a pair of lights suddenly appeared in the sky. Obi-wan could only watch as they grew closer and closer until he realized they were the lights on a ship. And he recognized that ship.

When the ramp extended down and its passengers stepped out... Obi-wan didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see Padme than in that moment.

Bail grinned, giving his side a nudge. “See, I told you someone was looking for us.”

**Author's Note:**

> I migth continue this if I get any inspiration...


End file.
